Chapter 11- And Now, Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

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"Did you actually punch Percy?"

"George," Eleanor hissed, shooting a glance in Mrs. Weasley's direction.

Eleanor and the twins were sitting in the basement, "celebrating" Ron and Hermione being made Prefects. It seemed that half of the order was crammed down in the basement, picking at the feast Mrs. Weasley had laid out along the dinner table. There was little chance of being overheard with so many people in one room, but Eleanor was still wary of Mrs. Weasley eavesdropping.

"Well, did you?" George asked exasperatedly.

"Alright, yes I did but hush up about it. You don't want your mum to find out and start crying over it," Eleanor said, shooting another glance at Mrs. Weasley.

"She's too happy right now to spare us a thought," Fred said haughtily, staring at his mother from the chair he sat in, arms crossed, "Little Ronnie, Prefect."

"Why didn't you tell us when it happened?" George asked, a twinge of annoyance in his voice.

"Well, I'm not exactly proud of hitting your brother in the face," Eleanor said.

"You should be," Fred responded, his eyes still fixed on his mother and Ron.

"Tell us everything!" George whispered, boyish excitement strewn across his face, "like, what did he say-"

"Did he cry?" Fred countered.

"And how did it feel?" George added, nodding at Fred.

Eleanor sighed. She stole a look at Harry, who was doing his best to put on a happy face for the sake of his friends. He had already been left out of so much that summer, she didn't understand why Dumbledore couldn't have made Dean Thomas prefect instead. She knew Harry was proud of Ron, but at the same time, it must have stung. It stung George and Fred.

"They let me into Harry's trial, since I'm a relative-"

"Yeah, we know. You told us that much."

"Well, Percy was there. He was taking notes or something stupid. You should have seen him, sitting on his high horse because the Minister of Magic was entrusting him with such a demanding task-"

Fred snorted, his eyes still on the rest of his family.

"I thought, well Percy knows Harry. Even if he's mad at your family, he was always kind to Harry. I hoped he would be... I don't know, a friendly face in the crowd."

"Wishful thinking," Fred interrupted.

"Yeah," Eleanor scoffed, "he was the opposite of a friendly face. He made everything worse with his constant nodding at every bullshit lie that came out of Fudge's mouth. He wouldn't even look in Harry's direction. It was appalling."

"So, you punched him because he was being a pompous prat," George nodded, "that's completely fair. I don't blame you."

"I already told you to be proud of yourself," Fred added.

"Well, there's more," Eleanor took a deep breath, "I was pissed, so I stayed behind. I knew Percy would be the last one to leave the courtroom because he would check over his notes to make sure they were perfect-"

"Classic Percy," Fred murmured.

"-or something annoying of the sort," she continued, "and I was right. He didn't realize it was only the two of us left until it was too late. He tried to ignore me, but I blocked his way to the door. I told him he was a prat-"

"Because he is."

"-and that Harry of all people has never done anything deserving of the cold treatment Percy gave him. Then I asked him... well, I asked him if his knees hurt from sucking Fudge off all the time."

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